Back in Black
by v2point0
Summary: Lucifer reunites with his old mentor, who is more than a little pissed. Spoilers for 5x04


Here is a fic I wrote for my friend, Sum, for her donation to the Humane Society helping out Haiti. :D

**Title**: Back in Black  
**Rated**: PG-13  
**Warnings**: mild profanity, violence  
**Pairing**: None  
**Summary**: Lucifer reunites with his old mentor. **Spoilers for 5x4**  
**Notes**: This fic is inspired by crack!rps between Sum, Cas/fujisaki-chan via dA and I, featuring the character introduced in this story.  
**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, 'cause this OC's not really an OC.

The sound of Dean Winchester's neck breaking beneath his heel, it almost sent a familiar sensation skirting around Lucifer's heart.

It would appear the former guest of the body was still lingering, and still felt something for his brother. For a moment, a sense of hurt, of deep disappointment knotted Lucifer's chest, but a smile appeared seconds later, banishing the all too human emotion. "How quaint," he said, mostly to the man sleeping inside him. Sam had willingly sacrificed himself, his body, to the fallen angel, knowing full well what Lucifer would do to this planet. Dean was not special, not anymore; he got in Lucifer's way, of course he deserved to die.

It was almost tragic, however, that the boy had to go out so... _pitifully_. This man had hunted and killed many of his brethren, escaped death countless times by the skin of his teeth; was to be the host of the great Michael, not something given to anyone, and had the aide of an angel who threw everything he knew and believed right out the window just to be by his side. And Dean did everything in his power to ensure the safety and remaining sanity of his dear little brother, the only constant, the only thing that truly _mattered_ to him, here, Heaven, Hell.

And it would be a simple toss on the ground and a twist of his neck that ended Dean Winchester's life. By the hands of his brother, to add insult to injury.

Well, not _entirely_ his brother. But Sam knew what he was getting into and thus, he had consented to the demise of his brother.

Once Lucifer believed love between family could never be betrayed or broken. That was until the man he adored and idolized cast him in to the pits of Hell to rot. So it was no surprise that in the end, the two men who loved, cherished, believed in one another would eventually be their own killers. It wasn't as if Dean was innocent; he had, after all, come to kill Lucifer and thus his brother, who he no longer considered of the same importance as he did in the past.

Sam had died years ago. And now Dean was gone, too. Maybe he was in Hell, being torn to shreds like those three delightful years in the past. Maybe he was drifting endlessly, aimlessly throughout this planet, the very same thing he had once hunted with no remorse. God (_ha_!) knows he wasn't in Heaven. Heaven was full of pompous arrogant assholes who loved Dean just as much as they did Lucifer.

Still, Lucifer pondered. Perhaps at this very moment, Michael had greeted Dean at the Gates of... Wherever, and was finally persuading the stubborn bastard to let him take his useless vessel. If Lucifer knew Dean, and he knew by proxy and accessing Sam's memories, he would probably still say 'no.' Let the world go down the shitter, he was tired and he just wanted to rest. Good, good, breaking Dean's spirit ensured no possible way of getting Michael in this hollow shell.

Lucifer gave a dramatic exhale, exaggerating disappointment. In a sense, it was genuine. How pathetic, poor little Dean Winchester. He plucked a single red rose from the vase on the table nearby. "And may a chorus of angels sing thee to thy rest," the fallen angel hummed and crushed the bud tightly until petals of blood rained over the slowly paling, purple face of the Winchester boy. Then, brushing off his hands over the corpse like dirt, he moved back to his small table, where a still warm cup of tea waited for him.

Two men in black suits lingered nearby, stoic with sunglasses hiding their dark eyes. "Dispose of the body," he ordered with a careless swish of his hand. "I want it incinerated." Just in case. Though he wouldn't put it past Michael to gather the ashes and reform the damn body. He took a seat as the men stomped by, hoisting the stiffening corpse roughly in their arms. Lucifer gave Dean one last smile and tragic shake of his head, before turning away with his pleased smile.

Just as the fallen angel went to sip his cooling chamomile tea, he heard a sudden wrenching scream and gasp behind him. Lucifer turned, just in time to see his lackeys and Dean's body disappear in a swirl of black smoke. Lucifer tilted his head, eyebrows raised. Well, that was _interesting_. He turned back to sit his teacup down when the table suddenly flipped into the air before him, nearly knocking him cleanly under the chin had he not sat back quick enough. The table exploded in a shards of glass and wood, raining down splinters.

Suddenly, through the shower of debris, a shadow thrust forward and Lucifer found himself knocked roughly to the ground, chair and all. However, he quickly flipped onto his feet, smiling when he stood as he casually brushed loose brunet bangs behind an ear. What he saw before him was indeed surprising.

Dean Winchester stood on the other side of the chair separating both men. He had changed into one of the black suits of Lucifer's servant. Speaking of which, both men had reappeared as well, but they were hardly anything human anymore. Lumps of shredded flesh and blood with bones broken into powder seemed more a fitting description. Dean just stood firm, shoulders haunched, back slightly bent like a predator about to pounce. And, strangely enough, he now sported a mustache.

"Ah, welcome back to the land of living," Lucifer purred. The corners of his grin quirked. "But this isn't exactly Dean I am speaking to, now is it?"

Dean's frown morphed into a wicked grin. His once green eyes flickered, filling to the brim with a red like burning fire. "Here I thought you were going to mistake me for Michael, kid," he sneered, one finger twirling around the edge of his mustache. "The surge of my power when possessing this vile corpse must have boosted something in his dwindling system to grow this fancy mustache."

"It looks good on you. Oh and, come now! I can recognize my dear mentor from anywhere," Lucifer chuckled. He swished a finger at "Dean"'s collar. "You have a little spot there."

"Dean" ignored the smudge, which was just a blotch of brain matter. "How selfish of you not to invite your teacher to your party," he smirked.

"I figured in your old age you'd rather stay at home."

"Your tongue it still as sharp as ever, boy," "Dean" snorted. "I remember almost ripping it out once."

"Almost," Lucifer reminded. "As I recall, you were unable to do so with my sword in your throat." He shrugged. "But you tried, and that's all that matters."

"Dean"'s eyes flared. "You little punk ass bastard," he snarled, and the air was getting thick, hot, "I should have scattered your body throughout all of Hell the moment I was done with you."

"But I'm so charming," Lucifer beamed. "You couldn't resist."

"Oho, it was perfect of that bleeding heart to make you govern Pride," "Dean" snapped. He tugged at the blood red tie around his neck, cracking his neck which had healed back to perfection. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I have you to thank for this body, as sickening as it is." He scowled at touching his cheek. Human flesh was always disgusting. "It appears you've got yourself a small rebellion going on underground. Demons who once believed _you_ were their _father_ finally broke free of your brainwashing and remembered who the _real_ Lord of Hell and Master of the Apocalypse is."

Lucifer just kept smiling. "It was only a matter of time," he admitted, "I did plan to rid myself of those pesky little vermin."

"I all ready started in your absence," "Dean" sneered. "While they removed me from my prison, the mere thought they once had their noses up your ass, an _angel's_ ass was simply," his eyes flared, "_unforgivable_." But they softened again as did his features. "I even beat Michael to the punch when it came to possessing this meatbag." Again he gave a disapproving snort. "It's only temporary, however. Unlike you, I won't need a vessel once I've... adapted to my surroundings a little more."

"You're sounding awfully proud yourself," Lucifer said, "you always were one to jump to conclusions, claiming victory prematurely." His eyes gave a mischievous twinkle. "You thought you could use a naive, bitter and hurting fallen angel to carry out your agenda where you had once failed, bring and lead you an army, where you'd then dispose of him and take the spoils. But." His head tilted and that classic, playful puppy dog look was so easy to imitate. "You ended up getting imprisoned in the very place you loathed by the very same angel."

"Dean"'s face twisted furiously. With a snarl, he hefted the chair from the ground, throwing it down over Lucifer's head. The fallen angel moved quickly, reappearing behind the hunter. "Dean" turned quickly, lunging a fist; Lucifer caught it and squeezed, but no pain, all fury, registered on "Dean"'s face. However, not to be outdone, he threw up his free fist, decking the brunet under the chin. Lucifer had moved aside to miss the second blow, but in doing so, weakened his grasp on the other fist just enough for "Dean" to wrench it free and collide knuckle to Lucifer's temple.

Lucifer stumbled back, hand grasping at his throbbing head as he briefly saw stars. "Woo!" Lucifer gasped, shaking his head. His eyes were wide and alert, grin just as big. "It seems you've not yet lost your fire, old man."

"You never truly had the honor of fighting with me at my full strength, _boy_," "Dean" snorted, cracking his knuckles. "You are as slimy as all that grease in your hair." Lucifer's eyebrows rose with amusement. "Attacking me when I was weak after battling and killing fifty angels." He tsked, wagging a finger. "Now that _really_ upset me."

"Oh, you would have done the same," Lucifer chuckled, unfazed.

"Thousands have found out the hard way what happens when you invoke my wrath," "Dean" sneered. In that instant, the rose bushes shuddered, rotting and dying, the roses wilting and melting until the lush garden went up in flames. The fire was wild, high in the air, sending thick blankets of smoke clouding the sky. "A little trick I borrowed from the goody-two-shoes," "Dean" snickered, nodding to the burning rose bushes. The fire danced across his glassy eyes, enhancing the rings of red around his irises.

Lucifer frowned in mock hurt. "Oh, picking on my roses, how cruel of you," he sighed. He stepped forward, hands tucked behind his back. "But as you know from the day you propositioned me as your protégé," he purred, "you have to do more than just set off some fireworks to earn my trust, and my fear." Those eyebrows quirked again. "You failed, but impressed me nonetheless. These are old tricks, old dog." With a raise of his hand, water cut down from the smoke clouds, instantly drowning out the fire while keeping Lucifer completely dry. "Dean" gave a low hiss and quickly shielded himself from the rain. "You're going to have to do better than this, I'm afraid," the angel finished; snapping his fingers, the rain ceased.

"I had no reason to fight you then, no reason to show my true powers to a little brat like you," "Dean" snarled. "You knew nothing of true power before I took you under my wing. You were a helpless _child_ when I came upon you. And when you had your first taste of power, it came to contort and twist you into something despicable." He shuddered and spit. "So much like the other angels, like God, like _humans_. So full of pride that you believe it will make you invincible."

"'Invincible'?" Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Oh, come now, I'm not invincible." His eyes were aglow, soft like his precious, misleading smile. "I just know when I'm stronger, old friend."

"Dean" scoffed. "To the angels, to the treacherous, idiotic demons, even to the humans, you may be godlike in your powers," he stated and slowly started circling the white suited man. "But you've never truly known the extent of a _devil_'s power."

"So rare, devils," Lucifer purred, standing his ground, "most of you went extinct. That surely says something." He hitched a brow.

"Not so much extinct as overthrown and destroyed by..." "Dean" paused to smile proudly, giving his mustache another twirl. "... A much more powerful entity."

"You forget how I brought you to your knees, bleeding, and trapped you deep at the core of this planet," Lucifer reminded with a raise of his finger.

"And as I've told you, you had taken me at one of my less finer moments," "Dean" growled. The water on the Earth began to bubble and steam before drying in seconds. The grass began to dry away, until the Earth was scorched and burning. "Admittedly, you attacked me when you knew you had the upper hand, boy. Cowardly of you, don't you think? But now that I've returned, in full swing and mojo," he spat out a sharp laugh and thunder began to roll fiercely in the sky, "you haven't got a prayer."

The ground began to quake and shift. Bolts like lightning cut through the Earth, forming and spreading out into thick crevices. The ground around both men, former brothers, tore away, until everything was devastated, distorted, holes as deep as miles surrounding them. Beneath, light from Hell barely reached the surface, waves of heat spreading through the land.

"This is all a very nice display of lights and noise," Lucifer said, gesturing to the chaos, "but I'm afraid it'll take a little more than this to prove your power, remember?"

"I'm just setting the stage," "Dean" insisted, fingers flexing hungrily.

Lucifer studied the insane, red rimmed eyes watching him, waiting. "Well, if you are indeed in your finest with all your strength at hand," he said and cold winds met to smother the heat, "show me what you've got, Satan."

---

END

**A/N**: In this universe, Satan was never an angel (which is why he doesn't need permission to use Dean's body.) He was sort of like around the same time as God. Perhaps he was a former angel, but he's about the same age as God, so no one really knows. In my original universe, demons are inferior to devils, which are two separate races. Satan is naturally more powerful than demons and angels. The backstory here is Satan exploited Lucifer's doubt and used him to get what he wanted, only for Lucifer to turn on him in the end. BAWWWW.

According to Peter Binsfeld, Lucifer governs the sin of Pride and Satan the sin of Wrath. Satan is a rather angry dude. In the "rps," so to speak, Satan is pretty much just angry and always bitching at Lucifer. Also, the reason he has a mustache is because of the emote we use to represent Satan, which turned out to be Dean with a stache drawn on. tl;dr


End file.
